


Meet Me There

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Exes, M/M, Multimedia, Road Trips, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:44:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Begging your ex to take you with him on a road trip is rarely fun, but you can pretend to start anew.





	

**Author's Note:**

> based off Milan Kundera's [The Hitchhiking Game](http://shallaon.blogspot.nl/2005/12/shalla-on-hitchhiking-game-by-milan.html)
> 
> this is a repost, btw!!

“No,” Wonwoo flat out declines.

Soonyoung looks forlornly down at the basket full of snacks, the handle caught in his clenched fists that slightly loosen their grip on it. “Uhm…” He bites his lip and tries hard not to think about that fucker Jeonghan running off with his car after he asks Soonyoung so sweetly to buy chips and water and condoms and lube from the gas station store because he might cry in front of his ex. “My ride—He… uh, left…” Wonwoo snorts, reaching into his back pocket to bring out a wallet so he could pay for his own cigarettes and watered down nasty coffee.

All of Soonyoung’s favourite clothes are in a suitcase at the backseat of the car, a light blue secondhand thing that he hopes to god breaks down somewhere. It makes him want to claw at something.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo looks crisp, taking a sip from his coffee without making a face. He turns to raise an eyebrow at Soonyoung. “So, what, you really need a ride?” he asks. Soonyoung nods and places the snacks on the counter. “You’re not kidding?”

“How about we try something?” Soonyoung suggests. He pays for the snacks and takes the plastic bag full of them from the cashier. “Let’s, uhm—let’s pretend we don’t know each other?” Wonwoo looks at him, eyebrows knitting together, then lowers his gaze to the hand Soonyoung has extended towards him. “I’m Soonyoung.”

“Wonwoo,” Wonwoo says slowly, but takes Soonyoung’s hand and shakes it, and that makes Soonyoung break out into a smile and Wonwoo relax. “Where you headed?”

“The beach,” Soonyoung answers. He trails after Wonwoo. “You know the one where you can feed baby turtles?” And white sand that never sticks to one’s soles, waves that feel like a washing machine, undertow that makes toes curl. It’s three days away but always worth it. Wonwoo smiles and laughs and nods.

“Nice how we’re going the same place, huh?”

“Nice?” Soonyoung teases. “I think I’m extremely lucky.”

“Let’s get to the car, then?” Wonwoo opens the pack of cigs and puts a stick in his mouth as soon as they get to the outside of the store.

Soonyoung asks, “You smoke?”

“Do you mind?”

“No.” Soonyoung shakes his head and sets down his plastic bag, leaning on the glass window to watch Wonwoo smoke and finish his coffee. “You just don’t look the type, that’s all,” he offers, and it makes Wonwoo snort.

“Things change after college,” Wonwoo tells him then takes a long drag.

Soonyoung reaches into the plastic bag and opens a bag of chips, grabbing a handful in his hand and shoving most of it in his mouth. “So, what, you some kinda tormented soul?” he asks with his mouth full, and Wonwoo laughs so hard the smoke curling out of his mouth comes out in short bursts.

“Give me that,” Wonwoo says and extends his hand for the bag of chips. “It’s a long story,” he then explains after chewing and swallowing a mouthful.

“Will you ever tell it to me?”

“Let’s see. You gonna tell me why some guy ran off with your car?”

The side of Soonyoung’s mouth quirks up, and he waits for Wonwoo to finish, to stamp out the cigarette butt with his shoe (a very demure, beach-appropriate Birkenstock), and to lead Soonyoung to his car. “Fuck,” Soonyoung lets out when he sees it, “it’s—” Tiger, the old-ass red Honda Civic they used to get Taco Bell drive-thrus with, good as new in broad daylight, save for the dent in the front when Soonyoung tried to park it.

“Yeah, it’s beat up.” Wonwoo scratches the back of his neck sheepishly as he unlocks the car and opens the door of the passenger seat for Soonyoung. “Saving up for a new one, but shit’s hard.” He climbs inside the car with a grimace as he watches Soonyoung toss the plastic bag of snacks to the back and clear out the fast food wrappers in the shotgun seat. “Sorry.”

“Anything else I should know?” Soonyoung teases when he settles in and puts on the seatbelt. “Like, a kid in the trunk?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes then connects his phone to the aux cord, starts up the car, drives out of the gas station. He asks Soonyoung to bring out the chips again and they eat in silence, letting Phoenix blast from the car’s speaker while the morning sun gives way to something brighter that digs into their eyes as they eat. Soonyoung settles into his seat and kicks off his shoes, feeling so old school and old.

“So…” Soonyoung begins, “what do you do for a living?”

“Photography,” Wonwoo answers. “Mostly for this magazine, but”—he reaches for his phone without taking his eyes off the road and passes it, unlocked, to Soonyoung—“freelance, too. Here, on my Instagram.” It’s a dream—the food porn-y kind, aioli erotically dripping off the edges of a fried chicken sandwich kind, powdered sugar outlining the crisp roundness of a lemon tart kind. There’s other shit, too, like the pastel backgrounds on wooden furniture, grey pillowcases, endless stretches of sand on cloudy days somewhere in Denmark or something.

“It looks like Pinterest to me,” Soonyoung remarks, and Wonwoo barks out another laugh, his nose and eyes crinkling. “Really,” Soonyoung stresses.

“I know, I know,” Wonwoo concedes, then holds out his hand to get his phone back. “That pays the bills, my apartment, and the car, so. I get flown everywhere, too.”

“Living the dream?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I guess. It could be better.” He’d have a guy waiting for him at home, ready to work the knots out of his back. He’d have a bigger apartment, a better car. He reaches for the chips then pulls his hand back with a frown when he realises the bag is mostly crumbs settled into the nooks and crannies at the bottom. “Hey,” he bites out.

“You snooze, you lose, bud,” Soonyoung says in singsong with a wide grin. He flattens the bag and folds it up into quarters then eighths, and stuffs it into the side of his seat.

“Fuck that,” Wonwoo growls. “Got any Cheez-Its?” Soonyoung’s stomach curls in on itself and his face heats up. “I have a funny story about that,” Wonwoo says with a quiet laugh.

“Bet you can’t top mine,” Soonyoung teases.

“My roommate and I stole some,” Wonwoo begins. And ran inside the chapel near campus to eat them with sweaty, trembling fingers, their giggling bouncing off the walls.

Soonyoung laughs. “Why did you steal Cheez-Its?” he asks.

“When we got to Target, we realised that, fuck, neither of us brought our wallets,” Wonwoo explains, and Soonyoung laughs even harder. “My roommate had to rip one open and stuff most of it in his jacket pockets.” The crumbs followed Soonyoung to graduation, to the new apartment near his first job at a local newspaper. Wonwoo licked cheese dust off of Soonyoung’s cheeks and fingers. (Soonyoung licked his dick clean.)

“Sounds like a wild ride.” Their legs felt like jelly running out of the Target and down the barely-lit, empty street.

“Best twentieth birthday of my life,” Wonwoo sighs. The [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWCP7fWfbIY) playing fades to silence before picking up again in disjointed bits. “What was your story?”

“I ate Cheez-Its in a chapel,” Soonyoung answers plainly. “We hid behind the altar and ate them so fast—we were so fucking scared that the priest was gonna come for our asses since it was midnight and all—that I choked and my roommate had to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on me.” Wonwoo laughs so hard that his shoulders start shaking violently, his hand covering his mouth to hide his smile.

“Did it work?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“He could’ve failed first aid,” Wonwoo teased. Wonwoo did, back when it was a mandatory PE class, but the learning still counts. “So… what do _you_ do?”

“Me?” Soonyoung swallows the lump caught in his throat. “I… write.” Porn. Cindy the babysitter gets banged by Mr and Mrs Phillips. Chinese twink gets double-teamed by Korean daddies. Read the new sexually-charged and emotional bestselling gay erotica by Hoshi Kwon.

“For a newspaper…? Magazine…?”

“Ever heard of _Boy Meets Closet_?”

“Like one of those young adult novels?”

Soonyoung nods, cheeks flaming. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be sure to look out for it,” Wonwoo says, and Soonyoung feels like sinking back into his seat until the cracks swallow him whole. “You any good?”

“Good enough, I think,” Soonyoung answers. “I was an English lit major in college.”

“I was in business,” Wonwoo offers. “Tried to double major in English lit, though, but my grades were never high enough.” Because he was always high. Soonyoung lets out a snort and drums his fingers on his thighs.

After a while of silence, Wonwoo says, “Sorry,” and Soonyoung just stares. “I’m… not really good at this small talk shit.”

Soonyoung smiles. “Neither am I. Gets you nervous?”

“Kinda. Yeah,” Wonwoo answers sheepishly. “I never know what to say, so you can sleep, if you want. Don’t feel obligated to stay up just ‘cause you hitched a ride.” Soonyoung did feel sleep pulling his eyelids down, but he shakes his head. Wonwoo moves his hand from the gear shift to rest on his thigh, palms and fingers flat on the fabric of his shorts. 

“Thanks, but my guilt will eat me whole,” Soonyoung tells him, and he thinks Wonwoo would’ve kissed him with the way he looked at him, but Wonwoo just smiles without showing any teeth then changes gears to go faster.

 

***

 

They pull up into a motel, grab everything from inside the car (not much—just Wonwoo’s overnight bag and the convenience store purchases), and head to the lobby. It’s quiet, and the receptionist looks them over before handing Wonwoo a pair of keys held together by a cheesy tourist keychain.

“Hungry?” Wonwoo asks once they’re in the room, tossing his bag to the bed nearest the window.

“A bit,” Soonyoung admits. Wonwoo brings out cup noodles and wrapped sandwiches from his bag and brings it to the small round table by the kitchenette then fills the kettle with water and sets it to boil. “You made these?”

“The sandwiches? Where are the forks…” Wonwoo rummages through the cupboards while Soonyoung carefully unwraps the sandwiches and prepares the cup noodles, tearing the soup packets and spilling their contents on top of the blocks of noodles. “No. Uh, my roommate made them. He’s iffy about that kinda shit.”

Soonyoung asks, “What’s he like, then?” Wonwoo’s just seated down when the kettle gets to a boil, so Soonyoung stands up to get it, pouring hot water into the noodles in a thin and steady stream.

Wonwoo takes a sandwich and bites into it, his response coming out muffled and with crumbs. “Junhui’s… He feels like a housewife, always has dinner prepared when I come home from work. Nags me to clean up after myself.” His eyebrows knit together as he examines Soonyoung’s face. “We’re not together, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Was I?”

“Your face” is all Wonwoo says, then mimics how Soonyoung’s face fell like a kid’s whose ice cream scoop tripped out of its cone, big, sparkling eyes and a slack mouth pulled down at the corners. “Holy shit.”

“Shut up,” Soonyoung grumbles, face as red as the cup noodle broth. He slurps it all down as fast he can while Wonwoo continues to laugh silently and finishes his sandwich slowly, licking mayo off his fingers.

“By the way,” Wonwoo begins as he blows on the top of the noodles, “you’re really cute when you look flustered.” He sucks the noodles in his mouth without waiting for a reply.

“Shut up,” Soonyoung manages to say again. “You’re assuming shit.”

“What am I assuming, exactly?” Wonwoo licks soup away from the corners of his mouth but doesn’t manage to get his chin, so Soonyoung grabs his face and wipes the spot away from his thumb.

“That I’m interested,” Soonyoung says in a low voice, then lets Wonwoo take his hand away from his face and pull him closer to kiss him.

They pull away, Wonwoo with a Cheshire cat grin and Soonyoung with the tips of his ears burning. “You are,” Wonwoo teases then kisses Soonyoung again more gently, tentative and shy, and Soonyoung has to ask.

“Is the game still on?”

“What game?” Wonwoo stands up and Soonyoung follows, laying himself down on the bed so Wonwoo can cage him from above with his limbs. Soonyoung has to choke out a “Never mind” between kisses, gasping it out when Wonwoo sucks on the skin of his throat, tongue rough as it laps away the sweat before kissing Soonyoung again, drawing each one long enough to leave Soonyoung mewling against his mouth.

He keens when Wonwoo takes his bottom lip in his mouth and sucks on it, teeth grazing at its tenderness. “Wonwoo—”

“I’m real glad I met you today,” Wonwoo murmurs in his ear. His hands card through Soonyoung’s hair while he kisses the perimeter of Soonyoung’s face, the tips of his ears, along the side of his jaw. His nose brushes against Soonyoung’s collarbones when he lifts Soonyoung’s shirt over his head and plants kisses on the bare skin beneath him.

Soonyoung breathes out a laugh, tingling all the way down to his extremities. Wonwoo’s mouth is so pink, as pink as Soonyoung’s flushed skin that arches up to meet it when he presses kisses to it. He opens his mouth to take in a nipple, and Soonyoung groans, head falling back. Every quick, dry press of Wonwoo’s lips on his skin gets him giggling, then sighing when Wonwoo’s mouth gives way to his tongue, tracing out patterns on Soonyoung’s chest in slow, dragging motions.

“Can I?” Wonwoo asks as his fingers curl into the waistband of Soonyoung’s pants, his mouth breathing warm air on the trail of hair that disappears into it.

“ _Please_ ,” Soonyoung chokes out.

“Scoot up,” Wonwoo says, his voice going lower, and Soonyoung lets his back rest against the headboard, pants lowered down to his knees before Wonwoo peels them off entirely and settles between Soonyoung’s legs. He touches Soonyoung’s cock, fat and red, with lazy upward strokes of his wrist, then slowly drags his tongue through the slit, lapping up what’s beaded up on the head. Soonyoung goes weak in the knees, his stomach curling and burning inside of him, and when Wonwoo purrs after he manages to place a hand on his hair, he feels like his entire existence wants to lay itself bare in front of him, slack and open.

Wonwoo places slow, openmouthed kisses down and up the length of Soonyoung’s cock, then sucks on one of his balls, rolling and playing with it with his tongue until Soonyoung’s toes curl into the bed, until his fingers curl into Wonwoo’s hair and his nails scratch lightly on the scalp, until Wonwoo groans from it and everything reverberates.

“Wait…” Soonyoung sighs, and Wonwoo looks up to meet his eyes without letting go; he’s even rested his arms on Soonyoung’s thighs like he has no plan to leave his position, all curled up like a cat on the bed. “I’m gonna—” Wonwoo smiles and darts out his tongue to lick at the head of Soonyoung’s cock further. It’s so close, building up inside him.

He watches the tip of his cock push past Wonwoo’s parted lips again, then the rest of the head. He feels teeth lightly trace over it, a warm tongue flicking into the slit. He brings his hand down from Wonwoo’s hair to his cheek, his mouth falling open as his thumb strokes the cheekbone visible in the motel room’s lighting, as his fingers play with the shell of the ear and the fringes of hair near it. Wonwoo lets go and moves his head to the side so he can kiss Soonyoung’s wrist, feel the pulse beneath his lips, then kiss his thigh, the inner spot where he’s ticklish.

“Do you want to come?” Wonwoo asks, and the voice jolts Soonyoung back. He’s grinning, mouth stained and shiny and fucking _pink_. Soonyoung can’t even manage a weak ‘yes’, so he nods and pulls on the short hairs at the back of Wonwoo’s neck when he comes, trembling into the mattress and cock leaving a trail of shine down Wonwoo’s cheek even after Wonwoo’s sucked him dry.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung says weakly as he sinks further down into the bed, into the soft pillow, and Wonwoo laughs and licks his lips, shifting his body back up so he can kiss Soonyoung, his tongue pushing past Soonyoung’s lips. Soonyoung hooks a foot on Wonwoo’s back and pulls him closer with it, even with his clothes chafing Soonyoung’s (now sensitive) skin. “Let’s get this off,” he then murmurs as he tugs on the hem of Wonwoo’s shirt in an attempt to get it off him.

Wonwoo’s skin is warm and taut under his hands, and they mould so easily around his body, his fingers slipping in the crevices with ease. Soonyoung traces up Wonwoo’s arms then laces his fingers at the back of Wonwoo’s neck, dragging him down for a kiss.

“Tired?” Wonwoo asks, his voice a low rumble.

“More,” Soonyoung growls. He wraps his legs around Wonwoo’s waist and pulls him in closer, trying to get rid of his shorts but failing. Wonwoo laughs and whispers in Soonyoung’s ear to let go so he can shimmy them off and toss to the floor. Soonyoung draws him back in for a kiss despite his mouth being too slack for use and his eyes drooping from sleepiness.

“You look tired,” Wonwoo notes, and Soonyoung can feel him smile against his cheek. “You should sleep.”

“No,” Soonyoung whines. “You should fuck me. Nice and slow and gentleman-like.” He sighs when Wonwoo tongues at the back of his ear, nibbles on the lobe with gentle teeth.

“Is that what you want?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Soonyoung breathes. His body arches up in sync with the hand Wonwoo has roaming down his chest, squeezing a shoulder, drumming over a hipbone. Wonwoo leaves kisses where his hand’s been, peppering them on the soft flesh of Soonyoung’s inner thighs while his fingers dig into them and his nails leave crescent marks on the skin, then brings his head up to suck on patches of skin on Soonyoung’s stomach, leaving pink, blooming patterns all over. The trail of hair looks so much more vibrant in comparison, surefire and straightforward.

“Stay right here,” Wonwoo says, making a face like he’s reluctant to get up to fetch the condoms and lube, but he goes and gets them anyway, drizzling a generous amount onto his fingers while his other hand splays itself flat on Soonyoung’s thigh and keeps his legs open. He circles a finger around the perimeter of Soonyoung’s entrance with feather-light touches, adding pressure in tiny increments until the tip of his finger is pushed in.

Soonyoung’s stomach tightens, winds up into a neat little knot inside of him, and his lips part when Wonwoo goes all the way to the knuckle then fucks him achingly slow until he’s aching inside. He lifts up his hips to meet Wonwoo’s finger, a whine coming from his throat for another.

Wonwoo obliges him and slips in another finger, his bottom lip caught in his smile as he watches Soonyoung writhe on the bed. “More” is all Soonyoung can manage, then clears his throat once he realises his voice has all but cracked, his throat thick and catching. Wonwoo fucks him with three fingers, drawing them out with the slickest, wettest sound that makes Soonyoung lick his lips in anticipation and he whines against Wonwoo’s mouth, tugs on his hair, and digs his nails into his shoulders until Wonwoo gets it and pulls out his fingers so he can roll on a condom and coat it with lube.

“Is this okay?” Wonwoo asks once he’s positioned himself, his voice a deep rumble in Soonyoung’s ear, and Soonyoung nods, steeling his gut for the tip of Wonwoo’s dick that enters him, and when it does, Soonyoung finds his arms wrapping around Wonwoo’s shoulders, his legs wrapping around Wonwoo’s waist, and he clings to Wonwoo, reluctant to let go. Wonwoo doesn’t meet his eyes but rather keeps them down, chewing on his bottom lip as if in deep concentration, like he has to remind himself to pull out and push back in, but when he does look up, he smiles then ducks down to kiss Soonyoung, leaving Soonyoung’s mouth tender and swollen and tingling while his clean hand brushes the hair up and away from Soonyoung’s face so he can kiss Soonyoung’s forehead and down the bridge of his nose.

He buries his face in the crook of Soonyoung’s neck, keeping up the even rhythm that has Soonyoung digging his heel into the back of Wonwoo’s thigh to make him go faster, roll his hips, go deeper. Soonyoung’s own dick leaves clear traces on Wonwoo’s stomach, the friction a little too good to keep it up for much longer.

Above him, Wonwoo stutters to a stop and trembles, coming with a low sigh and a steady grind. Soonyoung brings a hand down to touch himself, trying to close the gap between them. His orgasm sneaks up on him, his toes and stomach coiling for what seems like forever until everything unwinds and he’s left shaking, a tear rolling down his cheek, a shout that shot up past his lips.

It makes Wonwoo smile even wider, that little tear, and he wipes it away with a gentle swipe of his thumb before kissing Soonyoung again. Their pace falls behind into languid, lazy kisses that get stopped by Wonwoo having to pull out and peel off the used condom before he can lay down next to Soonyoung properly so their mouths fit into each other’s a little better, a little more comfortably.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung says, when he finally finds words, and it comes out in a yawn, making Wonwoo laugh again.

“Sleep,” Wonwoo urges.

“Stay with me,” Soonyoung counters, and Wonwoo only has to look back at his own bed, still pristine save for the bag by the foot, and shrug before scooting closer to Soonyoung so he doesn’t fall off the edges of the bed and wrapping an arm around his torso to keep Soonyoung from falling off the edges as well. The warmth of Wonwoo’s body next to his brings him to sleep right away.

 

***

 

**A Dictionary of Implied, Mutual Meanings**

 

**_bonding_ **

“Mom?” Soonyoung scoots a little farther up the bed, and Wonwoo follows, his back pressed against the wall and mouth pressing kisses on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Moved in without a hitch.

“My roommate? He’s—We… We got along really well.” Wonwoo laughs at that and moves his mouth to Soonyoung’s neck, sucking on the already blooming hickey until Soonyoung lets out a sharp gasp, unable to move the phone away from his mouth in record time. “W–We had dinner… in some diner somewhere near campus, then we”—Soonyoung tugs on Wonwoo’s hair to pull him away from the sensitive skin of his throat, glaring at him while Wonwoo just grins back, licks his lips, trails a hand down Soonyoung’s bare torso again; the flower Wonwoo stole from the diner is sitting fresh and pretty on Soonyoung’s study desk, in a used Starbucks cup filled with water—“ _bonded_.

“I’ll call you tomorrow morning, okay? We’re playing a game and I’m losing. Love you, Mom. Bye.”

 

**_oral fixation_ **

“Why do you smoke?” Soonyoung asks. He frowns a little at Wonwoo walking to the window to open it, lighting up a cigarette as perches himself on the windowsill, blowing smoke away from the room as possible. Wonwoo mimics his frown and sticks his tongue at him.

“Not all of us get off to the way words feel when we say them,” Wonwoo says with a snort. “Pretentious fucker.”

“Get into something else,” Soonyoung grouses. He fluffs up his pillow then keeps it tucked under his chin as he watches Wonwoo smoke, one leg tucked under him while the other dangles off the edge of the window. “You’re gonna fall off.”

“Catch me, then.”

Soonyoung rolls himself off the bed then gets on his knees on the daybed to pluck Wonwoo’s cigarette out of his fingers. Wonwoo glares at him, nostrils flaring slightly when Soonyoung stamps it out, but lets himself be dragged down onto the already cramped daybed so he’s more or less sitting on Soonyoung’s lap after Soonyoung rests his back on the wall and extends his legs in front of him. There’s something incredible about the angle of the sunlight on Wonwoo’s face, and Soonyoung brings it nearer to him to kiss, nibbling on Wonwoo’s bottom lip until he groans.

When he pulls away, Wonwoo pulls him back in and coaxes Soonyoung’s mouth open with his tongue. “What am I gonna do when you’re not with me?” Wonwoo asks later, with deep breaths while he’s curled up next to Soonyoung, taking up as much space on the daybed as it allowed.

“Call me.”

 

**_free elective_ **

“Photography,” Soonyoung repeats dumbly. The lens of Wonwoo’s camera is all up in his face, black and hungry and demanding. He hears the click of the shutter then sets his face into a pout, shoving the camera away when Wonwoo tries to position it closer to him, getting on his knees on the floor by the side of Soonyoung’s bed.

“Shut up,” Wonwoo grumbles. “I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“On me?”

The tips of Wonwoo’s ears and nose go red, and he smiles widely, revealing a row of perfect teeth. “Well… Yeah…” Then, when he recovers from his initial embarrassment, he tries to tug Soonyoung’s pyjamas down. “Come on, get naked.”

“ _No_ ,” Soonyoung whines then breaks down into laughter fighting off Wonwoo with weak limbs. At least he remembers to be gentle with the camera. “You’re gonna get a low grade with my naked body, just so you know.”

“I’m not submitting _those_ ,” Wonwoo argues, “and my teacher’s an idiot if he gives me a low grade for pictures of you.”

“Stop flattering me, Wonwoo Jeon.”

“I will when it stops working.”

Soonyoung makes a face and tries to push Wonwoo’s body off one last time before giving up and letting Wonwoo lie down on a slump on top of him. “Wonwoo,” he says in a voice that’s meant for children. He plays with Wonwoo’s hair and strokes his cheek, shifting clear of the camera that fell to his side. “I got an idea.”

“Hm?”

“Remember the rooftop of Jihoonie’s building?”

“You have to climb up the pipe to get there,” Wonwoo complains, burrowing his face into the crook of Soonyoung’s neck. “Carry me; I’m lazy.”

“Fuck off.”

“So what about it?”

“I’ve always wanted to have sex under the stars,” Soonyoung muses aloud then tries to squirm away from Wonwoo’s fingers that are threatening to tickle and pinch.

 

***

 

The morning is hazy and sweet. Wonwoo kisses Soonyoung awake, peppering them on his forehead and cheeks while Soonyoung groans his complaints and snuggles closer to Wonwoo for warmth, his toes digging into the mattress. “Get up,” he murmurs, not unkindly, and Soonyoung dares to open his eyes but squints hard at how bright everything is, how the light gives Wonwoo’s head a halo.

“Don’t wanna,” Soonyoung grouses.He feels like he’d gone drinking last night, his head hurting and body slightly sore.

“It must be noon,” Wonwoo tells him, warning yet coaxing. “Come on… We got places to be today.”

“Like where?” Soonyoung demands.

“How about that nice restaurant at the next exit? The one notorious for steak and eggs…” Wonwoo nibbles on Soonyoung’s ear, both hands curled into his chest to support him. “Come on, take a shower…”

“No clothes.”

“I’ll lend you mine,” Wonwoo says, “then we can buy some on the way.” He wrests himself from Soonyoung and drags Soonyoung with him to the foot of the bed, not stopping until Soonyoung’s feet land on the wooden floor and he whines about cold it is against his toes. “Shower, come on.”

Soonyoung commands, “Carry me,” and Wonwoo clicks his tongue.

“You’re too heavy for me.”

“At least _try_.” Soonyoung’s eyes fly wide open when Wonwoo lowers himself to pick him up by the legs, and he must’ve aimed for tossing Soonyoung over his shoulder like a sack of rice but instead lets Soonyoung down again after bringing him up a foot away from the ground, making Soonyoung feel like kicking him while he’s doubled up against Soonyoung’s leg with laughter. “I’m not heavy,” Soonyoung stresses. “You’re fucking _weak_.”

“Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Wonwoo kisses Soonyoung’s bare knee then stands back up to his full height, ruffling Soonyoung’s hair. “Shower,” he says. “I’ll bring out clothes for you to wear.”

“Not joining me, then?” Soonyoung teases.

“I have bruises on my elbows trying to fit in it this morning,” Wonwoo replies, then lifts up an elbow that is an angry red, and it’s only then that Soonyoung realises that Wonwoo’s already dressed, hair sticking up in odd places from not drying down properly, and if Soonyoung steps a little closer, he’ll probably be able to smell the scent of him sleeping all over Wonwoo’s skin and clothes. It makes Soonyoung’s cheeks heat up, so he coughs out an apology while clearing his throat then lets himself be shoved into the shower without much of a fight.

The water starts off too hot, searing into his skin, before mellowing out to help Soonyoung loosen out the knots in his body from sleeping in an off position. He comes out of the bathroom to Wonwoo drinking hot water in a mug, to clothes laid out for him in the bed, and to slightly cooler air drying off his skin, which turned pink from the water.

“I hope they fit,” Wonwoo says, gesturing at the clothes. They do, though a bit tightly so, clinging to Soonyoung where they would hang off Wonwoo, but once he zips up the jacket, everything feels in place.

“This was my school, too,” Soonyoung says. The jacket is soft from wear and tear, the colours all but fading away to muddiness. “Class of ’11?”

Wonwoo nods. “Funny how things turn out, huh?”

“Why haven’t I seen you around campus?”

“You probably wouldn’t remember me,” Wonwoo answers with a shrug and doesn’t give Soonyoung room to protest. “I’m going to the lobby to check out. Bring the rest of the stuff, okay?” Soonyoung does and they both pile back into the car, feeling a little bit fresher and newer.

“So what’s that restaurant you were talking about?” Soonyoung asks.

Wonwoo takes his eyes off the road to glance at him. “I always eat there when I do this road trip,” he explains. “My roommate and I came across it the first time, and it was—”

“Too good to give up?” Soonyoung settles into his seat, letting his mouth water at the thought of chicken and waffles drowning in syrup and hot enough to exude steam that almost burns in his mouth. “I kinda get that.”

“Yeah, it’s… special. Got a lot of good memories there,” Wonwoo sighs, and the side of Soonyoung’s mouth involuntarily quirks up. He fucked Wonwoo in one of the toilet cubicles, slapped his mouth shut to keep his moan from reverberating. Wonwoo first told him “I love you” while Soonyoung slurped on his malted vanilla milkshake, his smile too wide at the sight of Soonyoung choking and spluttering out his “I love you, too”. 

The restaurant is the same, bright and cosy and filled with the chatter of the last of the lunch rush by, by the time Soonyoung and Wonwoo arrive. They get seated in a booth by the window and order a couple of iced teas and their food.

“I forgot to ask you something,” Wonwoo begins. He stirs his iced tea with the straw, the ice cubes clinking against the walls of the glass.

“Shoot,” Soonyoung says, though he feels something coil and tighten inside him.

“Your book…” (Soonyoung has no idea how hide the way his face automatically contorts at the mention of it except to pinch his lips together while he looks at Wonwoo dead-on straight.) “What’s it about?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uhm… This guy who realises he’s gay and just… keeps it inside, won’t come out to anyone but his boyfriend,” Soonyoung says slowly, swallowing hard when Wonwoo’s jaw tightens.

“Ah,” Wonwoo reacts with a nod then takes a sip of his drink. “Was the boyfriend pressuring him to come out?”

“Y-Yeah… The boyfriend, he—He thought the guy was ashamed of himself and of the relationship, and, like”—Soonyoung licks his lips, wonders why his palms have gone cold as he watches Wonwoo glance out the window—“he keeps telling the guy he has no reason to stay in the closet.”

Wonwoo looks back at him and his mouth curls. “Fun” is all he says about it. “Cute story.”

“Thanks…”

“It’s a familiar story,” Wonwoo says. Fuck.

“Yeah, I—I wanted to keep it universal. The themes, I mean.”

“Coming out is hard.”

Soonyoung nods. “Yeah—”

“But the boyfriend is being such a dick about it,” Wonwoo cuts in. “It’s like he had no confidence in him.”

“It’s just a book” Soonyoung says quietly. “Conflict is necessary.” The food arrives, distracting Soonyoung from the way his throat clogged up and tightened and felt sticky and tacky and gross and from the tear that pricked at the corner of his eyes. Wonwoo puts on a smile for the waiter that puts down the huge plate of steak and eggs in front of him while Soonyoung tears a chicken breast apart, the meat an opaque white and emitting steam, too hot for his fingers to pick up. He lets out a deep sigh then begins eating.

The food is good, too good, and vanishes a little too quickly. Wonwoo orders a slice of banana cream pie and gives Soonyoung one of the tiny forks, letting him have the first bite. Soonyoung takes it with ease, the taste of the pie eliciting a sigh he didn’t realise he’d been holding with everything so silky sweet on his tongue.

“This is so _good_ ,” Soonyoung rambles then picks up a forkful to feed Wonwoo. Wonwoo gets his own fork and his own mouthful.

“It is,” Wonwoo approves, digging in for another mouthful while Soonyoung feeds himself the bit Wonwoo rejected, taking a little bit of extra whipped cream off the top of the pie along with it. “Too bad the serving’s too small.”

“We can try another cake,” Soonyoung offers, “and some coffee.”

“Shouldn’t we be hitting the road by now? At this rate, we’re gonna have to crash some place near then drive super early tomorrow,” Wonwoo notes after a look at the giant kitschy clock on display. “And we still gotta get you some more clothes…”

“It’s… fine…” Soonyoung reassures him a little too weakly. “No coffee, then.”

Wonwoo calls for the check then gives him a small smile. “Save it all for tomorrow, yeah?” He deposits a couple of bills on the table then heads out of the restaurant back to his car, leaving Soonyoung to wonder if he should just save Wonwoo the trouble and find himself another person to hitch a ride from, but Wonwoo drives up to the entrance and opens the door for him.

“I’m really sorry,” Wonwoo apologises once Soonyoung’s settled inside. “I, uh…”

“Did I hit a nerve?” Soonyoung asks gently.

The laugh Wonwoo lets out is shy and sheepish; he raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Kind of? It reminded me a lot of my ex,” he admits.

“Really?”

“Yeah. He was… the same kind of overbearing?” Wonwoo says, and it makes Soonyoung feel like vomiting out his lunch all over the dashboard. “He liked being shown off, wanted me to bring him home to meet my parents, but my parents… They hate that kinda shit.”

“Did he know?” Soonyoung asks.

“He did, but he kept insisting, so I brought him home one time for New Year’s and I never wanted to bring him home again.”

Soonyoung blinks and a tear rolls down his cheek, but he pretends to yawn as he wipes it away before Wonwoo could see.

 

***

 

Wonwoo’s eager to fuck him again, practically ripping his shirt off of Soonyoung’s body and stripping him of his shorts until they pool around his ankles. He pushes Soonyoung down on the bed and flips him over, holds him by the waist to keep his ass up as he pushes Soonyoung’s face down on the pillow. There’s a quick fingering, two fingers on the get-go, then three, all slick with lube and the backs of his thighs are wet with it, too, before Wonwoo pushes in.

All Soonyoung can feel is Wonwoo’s clothes chafing against his skin, can only hear the sound of blood rushing in his own ears, his own moans. He wants to say “I’m sorry” when he feels how hard Wonwoo’s gripping his shoulder, his nails digging in deep enough to leave marks, and his other hand trying to grab at locks of his hair, but it gets caught in his throat then comes out in a long, low whine when Wonwoo reaches down to touch him, jacking him off in quick strokes.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls. He grips harder on Soonyoung’s hips, hard enough that a sharp pain shoots up Soonyoung’s body and Soonyoung thinks Wonwoo’s hands have turned into claws and will leave him with bruises.

Soonyoung sneaks a hand down to touch himself, ruts into his hand until he comes with a loud cry and weak knees. His hands fly forward to steady himself when Wonwoo pushes him further down into the mattress to muffle his noises. When Wonwoo comes with a low groan and lets Soonyoung go, Soonyoung collapses on the bed, entirely fucked out.

Sometime in the next minute, Wonwoo gets up and slams the door on his way out. Soonyoung rolls onto his back and looks up at the ceiling. He falls asleep before Wonwoo comes back inside.

 

***

 

**Meet Me There**

—a photo essay by Wonwoo Jeon (3rd year, business administration)

 

> I need to remember to wake up early. There's always water on the floors from his morning shower, from his little walk back to the kitchen, where he makes enough coffee for two and meagre toast (eggs cooked slowly in plenty of butter if he feels rich), and back to his room to get dressed for his noon class. It's nine in the morning. Somewhere, sprawled over a flat surface, I'm still drooling into balance sheets, and he shakes me awake before his fingers sink into my hair when I ignore him and fall asleep again.
> 
> It's ten. I wake up for real. He's working on a paper he forgot then gives me his mug to sip on while I scramble for clean clothes and a chance to balance the accounts one more time before deciding it’s a lost cause.
> 
> “Dinner tonight?” he offers. Thai, probably, because that always seems to be the first thing he thinks of when he wants to eat. I nod, kiss him on the cheek. It’s the only thing I have time for in the mornings.

 

 

 

> Dinner _is_ Thai, but extends all the way to ten in the evening, and by then, he wants to go dancing, wants to take the last possible train home or walk home from the train station after its darkness rejects us.
> 
> It’s around three in the evening, and we’re lining up for food at the only place that sells them. The Turkish man with the kebabs gives each of us a döner, piled high with shaved meat and pickled vegetables, and we bring them to the bus stop, where he unwraps his and unfurls himself onto my lap, all across the row of seats. “This is great, isn’t it?” he asks.
> 
> “You’ll choke,” I say, and I can already predict what he’ll say the same way I can predict that the first bite of a döner is better than the fifth but that the third one—the first bite where everything is contained in that one mouthful, down to that perfectly-sized bit of picked red onion—is the best, the same way I can predict that this scenario will repeat itself next weekend and that he might never be content with boxed wine and a bad home-cooked meal on a Friday night.
> 
> “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he teases and laughs, a bit of garlic sauce on the corner of his mouth. When it’s all finished, it’s time to start stumbling home.

 

 

> “Take me home?” he keeps asking.
> 
> “Yes,” I tell him. I know every twist and turn back to our small apartment near campus, the dark alleys that we shouldn’t cross especially when he’s drunk and his legs feel leaden. I trip trying to keep him upright, but he just laughs it off. “We’re almost there.” The sun starts to seep in through the cracks off the city. I can finally see his face clearly, shiny and ruddy with glossy eyes.
> 
> I can see his frown when we approach the complex.
> 
> “This isn’t home,” he slurs with a shake of his head. “This is where we live.”

 

***

 

Soonyoung’s afraid to ask where Wonwoo’s been. They’re back in the car for the last stretch of road in the same clothes from yesterday, though rumpled and slightly worse for wear. His phone isn’t connected to the aux cord anymore, the sounds from their college days no longer filling up the car so the silence is all the more suffocating. 

“You know,” Wonwoo begins after they pass by some kind of general store and Soonyoung just stares at it from the window, wanting to stop for even just a tourist shirt and tacky khakis, but keeps his mouth shut, “I don’t think my ex ever realised what went wrong.”

“No?” Soonyoung burrows further into the jacket so he doesn’t reach for the door and try to roll himself out.

“He didn’t. Then he broke up with me just because I was in the closet.”

“That can’t be true… He must’ve had a reason,” Soonyoung says weakly, making Wonwoo frown hard enough to deepen the crease between his eyebrows.

“It was that,” Wonwoo deadpans. “I never got to tell him how fucking bothered I was by it, how heavy it was.”

Another tear rolls down Soonyoung’s cheek—unbidden, unwanted, and unforgiving in how Wonwoo’s mouth curls when he sees it before Soonyoung can wipe it away. “You should have…” Soonyoung’s voice trails off, his throat closing on him.

“I couldn’t,” Wonwoo sighs. “You see, he has no idea how to be supportive—” He breaks off into a snort then adds, “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“It’s…” Soonyoung swallows, swallows once more. “Fine. I—I’ll listen.”

Wonwoo smiles. “I appreciate that. You’re a lot better than he was.”

“Maybe he just needed time to grow up.”

“Do you really think that? Wouldn’t some guy like him think he’s got life all figured out?” Wonwoo huffs. “Had no patience for me, never will. Yeah, he fucking needed to grow up, but he didn’t wanna do it with me.”

“It was a long time ago… He might get it now.”

“Someone’s gonna hate him for his cowardice,” Wonwoo says, and Soonyoung thinks of Jeonghan, of how he could only stare with his feet planted firmly on the ground as his car sped off towards the highway, and he begins to sob into the palms of his hands.

“Game over,” Soonyoung begs. “ _Please_.”

“What game?”

“Stop fucking with me! I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I hurt you, but I get it now. Jeong—My ex… said I’m only there when it’s good and I can’t… _Fuck_ —” Soonyoung tries to open the door of the car, but Wonwoo stops him, keeping one hand on the road.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Wonwoo tells him.

Soonyoung growls, “I don’t _care_ , just get me out of—” The door flies open and the road is suddenly moving too fast beneath him. “Shit.” Wonwoo stops the car and leans over to close it before pulling up at the side of the road and turning the hazard lights on. “I don’t wanna fucking pretend anymore, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, okay,” Wonwoo says gently, though he just watches Soonyoung cry from his seat. Soonyoung must look incredibly pitiful right then, small and insignificant. It must be incredibly disgusting.

“ _Fuck_. Jesus”—Soonyoung sniffles—“I’m so fucking sorry. I want to turn back time, I—We could’ve started over, you know? The other day…” He recoils when Wonwoo reaches for his hand, keeps it close to his body, but he eventually relents and lets Wonwoo hold it and feel the clamminess of his fingers as they lace theirs together.

Wonwoo rubs circles on the back of Soonyoung’s hand with his thumb. “We couldn’t. That would’ve been another lie.”

**Author's Note:**

> happy fucking new year I love you all!!


End file.
